The Inevitable
by RaspberryDevil
Summary: "Why?", Rogue finally asked when Sting was laying next to him, turned around after he woke him up. "It works in fairy tales", he responded, facing Rogue's back when no immediate reaction followed. "Dragons die in these stories." This almost caused him to laugh, but he knew better, so he just smiled lazily. "And they vanish in our world, isn't much of a difference." [StingxRogue]
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey there :3 As I said, I'm going to publish more on here from now on. _

_I crossed the 'not sure if sorry' line and reached the 'not sorry' point. Apparently, there's no return. I wanted to write some pwp, but since I hate things without some plot (even if it just exist in my head), have some pseudo angst and in the end just T rated stuff._

* * *

He knew of Rogue's nightmares, but since his partner didn't seem to show any interest in telling him anything about it, he kept quiet. Not that he didn't try to ask about his well-being but eventually, after more and more rejections, it was in vain. In the end, Sting could only convince him to share a room with him, speculating that his presence calmed him down, caused his nightmares to be less vivid (besides he could watch after him if something was wrong).

Frosch was there as well, sleeping with Lector on the sofa while Rogue slept on a second bed they brought in the room. But it was not until Sting woke up one night to find his partner tossing around that he took the initiative.

The thing was that Rogue never woke up screaming. He turned around, struggled with the sheets but no sound past a short groan passed his lips. That's why Sting missed his pain most of the time.

However not in this night.

Getting up to reach Rogue in his bed, he tried to shake him awake, muttering his name over and over again to be more effective; it didn't work. The painful expression wrenched his heart, his sleep-clouded mind not capable of thinking about a solution. Coming up with no idea, he almost gave up, frustration showing itself. But then there was a sudden image of Frosch talking about fairy tales and before he knew it, he pressed his lips against Rogue's. It worked, but the painful expression was replaced by a similar horrid one.

Sting didn't care.

He was exhausted, too tired to deal with shit like this at that hour so he gestured his partner to move and lay down next to him. He fell asleep immediately afterwards, having no idea whether Rogue was okay after that. And when he attempted to ask the next day, he turned away before he was even able to say anything. Sting couldn't blame him, really, he knew that Rogue wasn't fond of physical contact and yet he kissed him. He should have known better; nevertheless he was a bit angry for being ignored.

But apparently, his closeness had been effective since he found him in his bed the next time when he came back from work, sleeping there like it was a normal thing to do. Sting didn't mind, accepted it with a shrug. He also said nothing when he was woken up by kick or a hand in his face. Remembering the black-haired's behaviour, the shocked expression, he did try to wake him up with usual means at first. Just that it didn't work, so he ended up kissing him again and slowly the horrid expression was replaced by reluctant acceptance.

Sting has long stopped trying to shake him awake or calling his name since then, restoring to the kiss because it was the quickest way (and when he thought about it in a state of awakening, he had to admit that he didn't dislike kissing him). Yet they didn't talk about it, apart from that one time, when he was woken up by a struggling Rogue again, telling him to save money for a bigger bed because his kicks could hurt like hell.

Neither knew if he was joking or not, but it eased the unfamiliar tension.

* * *

"Why?", Rogue finally asked when Sting was laying next to him, turned around after he woke him up.

"It works in fairy tales", he responded, facing Rogue's back when no immediate reaction followed.

"Dragons die in these stories."

This almost caused him to laugh, but he knew better, so he just smiled lazily.

"And they vanish in our world, isn't much of a difference."

These words seemed to cause him thinking about this, as Rogue said nothing for a moment. "I'm not some princess", he mumbled eventually, quietly, so that Sting almost missed it. "But you are precious nevertheless." For this line, Sting earned himself a kick though it just made him laugh, even as another hit followed; at least the small smile on Rogue's lips showed Sting that things seemed to become normal again.

After the incident with the council, things got worse.

Rogue was just silently lying there, face twisted in a grimace, but Sting could tell that this nightmare was more than the usual images; not that he had any idea what his partner was dreaming about in the first place.

"This idiot", he muttered when he hovered above his friend, pressing his lips against the other one's. For once, he didn't stop when he was awake because Rogue didn't seem to register his motion, continued until he did and even responded, deepening the kiss. And this time, after parting, he received a reply.

"I killed you again. One day I truly will –"

"You won't", Sting murmured, lips pressed against his jaw, kisses peppering along his neck until he could feel the other one relaxing.

"Better?", he hummed against his throat, waiting for any response.

There was none and when he looked him in the eyes, he saw conflicted emotions.

"If you want me to continue, just say it."

But that was the point. It worked until now because they hadn't talked, acted on their instinct. Could Rogue really demand it from him? These calming touches, these friendship exceeding actions?

"If you hesitate, say no. It's closer to the truth than yes."

Didn't make it better though. But eventually, Rogue shook his head – he wasn't capable of more.

And Sting understood. He stayed nevertheless, trying to fall back asleep again, just like the countless other times. But he couldn't. The same was true for his partner and when he realised that neither would sleep soon, he spoke up.

"Won't you go back to sleep?"

He didn't need to wait long for an answer though when he received it, he was surprised.

"I never fall asleep again."

"I... didn't know."

"Of course you don't. You always immediately fall asleep again."

Coming from any other person, it would have sounded like an accusation, but Rogue merely stated a fact, explained the situation. Sting had liked to ask what he does when he was lying awake, whether he was just thinking about stupid things or actually nothing at all.

He wasn't able to as sleep greeted him at the worst time possible.

* * *

"Hey, Rogue."

It had been a long day, yet they were still awake. Sting had thought about something for a while now, since this night about a week ago, but until this moment he wasn't sure if he should talk to Rogue about it. He could hear from his breathing that he wasn't asleep so he took his chance and prayed that it wasn't a wrong decision.

"Hm?"

He reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together before he spoke.

"I think I've fallen in love with you."

Rogue felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, air knocked out of his lungs.

"Don't say stupid stuff like that."

His throat felt dry, his words came out choked.

"You never bothered how stupid the things I said were before."

"Because you didn't say anything like that."

Finally, Sting turned his head in Rogue's directions, saw the disbelief, hurt and a gleam of hope.

"I mean it."

He felt his trembling hands, though wasn't sure if Rogue was aware of that; he strengthened his grip.

"Liar."

"I love you Rogue", he whispered as if it would lessen the impact of the words.

"Don't."

Rogue took a deep breath before he let go of his hand and turned around immediately, giving no possibility to look at his face. Sting was confused. Why didn't he believe him? He had never lied to him, never given him a reason to distrust his words, so why didn't he want to accept them as the truth? Was it such a disgusting thought to have fallen for his friend? Or was he worried about something else?

"The nightmares have stopped", Rogue eventually told him, interrupting his thoughts, voice filled with misery, guilty for pretending to need his company further on.

"I know", was the only answer and that confused him.

"Then why do you keep kissing me?"

Sting looked at him when he turned around in bewilderment, his smile carrying a hint of sadness. Saying that he liked kissing him was probably not a satisfying answer, though he wondered if there was anything which would satisfy his partner at the moment.

"Because your nightmares still cause you to keep looking miserable. Besides, I just told you how I feel."

"Anyone would be if –", Rogue trailed off, eyes averting while Sting was rather concerned about his behaviour.

He couldn't tell him. Not before and not now. It creped him out, so why should Sting take it normal? Why would he act as if it was okay to dream of kissing his best friend? To dream of doing even more than that? Of course it wasn't his fault, why should he be accountable for the things which happened during his sleep? As far as he could tell from Sting's confession, he would be happy to hear it. However he wasn't able to describe it, unable to voice the pictures because the first time his dream was different in its events, it even came to him as a shock.

__The start of his dream had been the same as before, so, when he pressed a wounded Sting against the remains of an old house, hands around his throat, he assumed that he would kill him again. But his hands let go instead, wandering upwards to take his head between his hands before he bend forward and kissed him. It was just the beginning. His hands travelled downwards or rather where lead by Sting, a smirk on his lips. __

__"Come here, pretty boy. Show me what your shadows can do", he murmured in his ear. And that was exactly what he did.__

It was the last time that he dreamed of this battlefield.

__The next time, he was in his room when Sting approached him on his bed and knelt on the edge. Even though his first instinct was to run, he stayed – the reason why he did was forgotten when he felt Sting's lips against his and two hands grabbing his own ones, lacing their fingers together before he pressed them next to his head.__

__ "Sting?", he asked after the kiss was broken, his voice full of irritation. __

__The blond didn't answer, just swung one leg over Rogue so that he could sit on his lap, straddling his legs. Shortly after that, he let go of his hands, pulling his own shirt over his head and throwing it to the side, before he started to take off Rogue's. __

__"You want it, don't you? Admit it." __

__Oh yes. He didn't know when he yearned for his affection or why, but he wanted it. Badly. It was shameful. Yet it didn't stop Sting. And neither himself.__

The memory caused him to blush, to turn his head because he didn't want Sting to see it; he did nevertheless. And than it made click.

"No nightmares, just dirty fantasies? That's good."

He smirked, a hint of satisfaction even showing itself.

"What?"

Rogue didn't know if he should be angry with him or still embarrassed, so he just starred at him with a mix of both, brow furrowed while the blush was still present.

"You always fear for your dreams to come true. Consider it as inevitable. But I doubt that it is a bad thing if these kind of dreams become reality."

"What are you –", his question was interrupted as Sting suddenly kissed him, silenced by his body above his own, hand buried in his black hair; it was his dream all over again.

"Come on, can't let me do all the work", Sting mumbled in his ear, before he placed his lip behind it, kisses trailing downwards.

"You..."

"Ah, are they that dirty, huh?"

"Shut up."

Sting didn't need to look at him to know that he was still blushing, yet he didn't want to miss this view and looked up; the sight was gorgeous. His head was slightly tilted to the side, the back of his hand used to cover up the faint blush on his face.

"Rogue, look at me."

Sting didn't grab for his wrist to move his hand away neither did he pressure him and even though Rogue wanted to hide, he lowered his hand, eyes meeting Sting's as he turned his head.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No."

"Do you want me to stop?"

The blond was prepared to be rejected, even though it would hurt, yet it was a reaction he always had in the back of his mind as a possibility. But it came differently.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Instead of answering, Rogue grabbed him by the back of his head and pushed him down for another kiss. More than happy, Sting slide his hands under Rogue's shirt, along his skin. The other one allowed this gesture, didn't protest, focused on the lips which felt better than the ones in his dream.

"I guess it doesn't hurt anyone", the blond mumbled against his lips, closing the gap again in fear that he would change his mind. Would he? Change his opinion? Or allow this dream to come true? Sting was right, it wouldn't hurt anyone and truth to be told, he was anticipating it. The touches which he only received in his dream before. The unknown pleasure.

"Ah, it was a stupid idea."

Feeling his hesitation, Sting rolled off Rogue though stayed in bed next to him. If the others had doubt, he wasn't sure whether he could do this. Whether he could stop himself; not that Rogue wasn't strong enough to push him away when he wanted to end this. But he said nothing and this left him wondering. Eventually he turned his head in Rogue's direction and was surprised to see his confused almost disappointed expression.

At first Rogue thought that Sting had changed his mind until he realised that he was just trying to be considerate. Maybe, he wondered, he should use that to his advantage. Before Sting could even realise what happened, the other one was already on top of him legs straddled and hands on his shoulder before he bend down to kiss him.

That Rogue was suddenly sitting on top of him was surprising though a view he quite enjoyed. Allowing his hands to wander along his sides, feeling his skin heating up he started to crave for more.

"Hey, I'd really want to..."

"Yes."

"Good."

In mutual agreement, they stripped of their shirts and for the first time since Sting kissed him, their was a spark in his eyes.

Rogue wanted it.

Sting never thought that this would happen, after all they always had been teammates, hadn't they? Who thought that they'll go this far? Had someone told him during the Grand Magic Games that he and Rogue would end up in bed together, the would have declared them legally insane. Still, the thought caused him to laugh lightly.

"This is kind of awkward."

Rogue looked up, interrupting the kisses he left on his chest, a hint of impatience which went unnoticed by Sting (and he was thankful for that, his pride would probably not stand the teasing which would have resulted from that).

"Hm?"

"I know everything about you though as a best friend, and now...", he trailed off, scratching his cheek out of embarrassment which slowly reached him, his mind coming to terms with what he had begun.

"You started this whole thing with your kisses."

From the pitch of his voice Sting somehow had the feeling that he shouldn't have said this as it seemed to have upset his partner.

"I'm sorry."

"For kissing me?", Rogue asked, almost growling slightly, fingers curling into a fist as he wouldn't hesitate to end with a punch; he wouldn't allow it to be toyed with.

"No. For having done nothing until now."

Rogue paused a moment, considering his words, before he unclenched his fist and shook his head.

"You've done plenty enough for me."

It was no lie, no meaningless phrase. Sting had stayed with him. He had been by his side even as he had pushed him away.

"Damn."

"What?"

Had he done something wrong? The black-haired slightly straighten up when he threw a confused glance at him, unsure how to judge this kind of reaction; it was nothing to worry about though.

"I really do love you."

Sting expected to be told to shut up, to stop talking nonsense again but that was not the case.

"Then show me."

Rogue smiled, a hint of challenge in his eyes which Sting returned with a smirk of his own.

"With pleasure."

~Fin?~

* * *

_Omake:_

_"Lector, do Rogue and Sting don't want us anymore?"_

_"Stupid, why would you say that?"_

_"Because we stay with Yukino again."_

_"Idiot, don't you like staying with her?"_

_"It's fine, Lector. I bet Frosch is just missing Rogue. But I'm glad that you keep me some company, thank you."_

_"Of course, you can count on us." "Fro thinks so, too."_

* * *

_Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter :3_

_(Not on complete yet because there might be a much shorter second chapter – no lemon – , but hush, you haven't heard that from me~)_

_Edit: Finally did more paragraphes like one ore two reader pointed out my habit of doing these massiv textblocks_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: It was supposed to be its own story (two short things, actually), but it fit to the first chapter here, so there we go. Fluff which ended in hurt/comfort. And there is a bit of suggestive stuff and the mentioning of sex, but not M-rated worthy I hope, so... don't worry?_

* * *

"Rogue?"

The young man didn't bother to open his eyes, stayed in bed when Sting approached him from behind, sneaking under the covers before he wrapped his arms around him.

"Hm?", he wondered when Sting buried his face in the curve of his neck; it was winter and he was glad for the additional warmth the other one caused. "Nothing. I just like saying your name", he murmured against his skin.

"Weirdo."

"I'm sorry."

Not really though. Being sorry for worrying over things wasn't his thing. Neither was being afraid; yet he was haunted by these emotions. Sting was scared that one day, there'll be no answer just silence because even he was haunted by nightmares. In which Rogue was lying next to him, his body lifeless and his skin cold under his hands, life having left his eyes while the accusation remained. So as long as he was responding, it was fine.

"Rogue?"

"Would you stop, I –", he turned around to face him but halted when the blond spoke his next words.

"I love you."

The blush which was suddenly spreading across his face was welcomed and satisfying.

"Shut up."

"Hmmm. And what about you?", he teased, the grin trying to cover the emotion he wasn't able to hide at the right time.

"Fine. There. I love you."

Sting grinned, happy with the warm feeling in his chest – which was not caused by a mortal wound, blood flowing – and the other's action to bury his head in the pillows because he was ashamed to show it (not because Sting turned him around to avoid looking at his fixed glance).

"Rogue."

"Would you just –"

"Please don't die."

Taken off guard by the sadness in his voice, the black-haired looked at him, taking his head between his hands before he kissed him.

"I won't", he said, pressing their foreheads together. _And neither should you._

"Good."

He nuzzled his neck, a gesture which caused the other to hum though rather because it was accompanied by two hands which sneaked under his shirt. "What?", Sting murmured against his skin whereupon Rogue just rolled his eyes.

This guy could change any situation without much effort and any shame.

"Frosch and Lector are sleeping."

"Well, I can keep quiet, though you..."

Sting couldn't and probably didn't want to hide the smirk which irritated his partner, elicited him a short groan. He thought that the blond was done teasing him with this, but of course he wasn't. Rogue _was_ quiet, in general. But there were exceptions – which only Sting knew of.

* * *

Their first time was rather awkward as they were teammates before and the process of falling in love with each other was still behind their comprehension.

Sting was rather surprised though.

Rogue wasn't someone who allowed himself to lose control over his body, just let out some small moans, nothing more. At first he thought that this was just his thing, that he was a rather quiet person, even in bed, after all his nightmares never caused him to scream. But then Sting realised that his partner wasn't fully ready yet to let go of the control over his body. This wasn't really about trust, rather fear to be unable of regaining his composure afterwards, to become dependent. Still he insisted to sleep with Sting who was quite upset about his reserved behaviour, after all his partner was allowed to receive pleasure as well. Rogue responded that he was fine and that he didn't need to be so annoying.

Sting couldn't help it.

Maybe it was just because he wanted to see all of his faces.

So he waited.

And was rewarded.

It was starting to become less awkward between them and they dared to be more spontaneous despite of other things they had on their mind. So when Sting was busy peppering kisses along his skin, Rogue's mind started to drift off and when Sting let his hand wander between his legs, teasing him to get his attention back, a rather loud moan escaped him. There was a short awkward silence between them, as Sting hadn't expected this and neither Rogue who was fighting for his composure.

"Well, so you do feel something. I wonder which noises you can make as well", Sting purred causing Rogue's embarrassment to grow.

"I won't – "

"You can let go. Just once", he interrupted him, his voice soft, no teasing.

Rogue hesitated, wasn't sure if he could even to this in the first place since he had never experienced a situation like this. But it was Sting they were speaking of, so it should be fine.

"Okay."

Rogue was shuddering, eyes clouded with lust and voice full of satisfaction.

"Sting."

He had never heard his name during sex from him before and this was the reason why he looked up with a smirk.

"You're enjoying yourself."

No question, a statement.

Rogue just tried to glare at him not wanting to say it out loud. But Sting wasn't bothered by that.

"You don't? Then I should stop."

"No."

His tongue was faster than his brain, a fact he inwardly cursed.

"Ah, that's a decision I can live with."

"Shut up."

"Gladly."

He really did, though just to double the effort to make Rogue speak up. And he was successful. By now he knew a few of his weak spots and used them to his advantage, eliciting him moans, shuddering breaths and the cry of his name. It was satisfying, for both of them.

"I hate you", Rogue mumbled afterwards, head buried in his pillow while he waited for the shame to wash away.

Sting didn't really seem to be worried by that.

"We'll see about that the next time."

Sting was pretty confident, in comparison to Rogue who just threw a pillow at him.

* * *

But as much as Rogue liked to disagree, Sting was right. It felt good to let go for once, to allow him taking control, though he also liked to be the one causing the blond to beg for it. And that was the reason why Rogue gave in, even though Sting kind of riled him up.

"Al right."

"Really? Well, then –", he didn't manage to finish his sentence as Rogue was on top of him, interrupting him by pressing their lips together.

"You better be quiet. If they wake up, you are going to explain what we're doing."

Sting just nodded, too distracted by the young man and his body to actually care about what he was saying. Rogue smiled pleased, before he bend down again and finished what Sting had started.

(In the end they were quiet enough not to wake their cats up, nevertheless they refrained from doing it in their presence again, not wanting to tempt fate).

~Fin~

* * *

Thanks for reading! :3 I plan on publishing my next stories about these two on here as well, instead of only tumblr, as a short story collection. In case you might be interested, or not. Please be patient with me though, I'm lazy and slow and a poor busy student...

Until then, have a nice day!

Edit: More paragraphs for your reading pleasure.


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